Postcards
by InsertPotterThemedUsernameHere
Summary: Missing Scene from S09.7, so obviously, spoilers. Sonny talks to Sam about Dean.


**Title**: Postcards

**Summary**: Missing Scene from S09.7, so obviously, spoilers. Sonny talks to Sam about Dean.

**Disclaimer**: If you recognize it, I don't own it. I make no money, so don't sue me. Please and thank you.

**Warning**: It's supernatural, so the angst is a given. Also, spoilers.

**Rating**: PG 13 for minor swearing

**Note**: Oh. My. God. that episode put on the feels! This a missing scene story from after they save Timmy to when they get in the car. Please enjoy.

Postcards

As Dean and Robin helped calm down a still sobbing Timmy, Sonny walked back into the house. Seeing the disarray, the man opened his mouth to say something, but Sam shook his head at him and gestured for them to talk in another room. Sonny nodded in understanding and had Sam follow him to another room on the ground floor.

Immediately, Sam realized that he was in Sonny's bedroom. There was a rustic-looking bed with a thick quilt that was made to military precision, much like he saw in the boys' room. There was a small fireplace with two chairs in front of it. Sonny sat in one and Sam in the other.

"It was Timmy's mother," Sam explained. "She died in a car accident. She was able to get him out, but the fire killed her. He ran away to the warehouse and called out for her – and she came. She's followed him ever since, trying to protect him against anything she perceived as a threat. Dean was able to get him to let her go – that sometimes we have to do what's best for ourselves even if it hurts the ones we love."

Sonny rubbed his face and was not able to keep a chuckle from escaping.

"It's something I told Dean, way back when," Sonny said, and at Sam's questioning eyes, Sonny gave Sam a hard look. "What exactly do you know about your brother's time here?"

"Nothing!" Sam exclaimed, leaning forward. "I didn't even know that he'd been here. Dad and Dean told me that Dean had been lost on a hunt or something, and I stayed with a family friend until Dad found him. He only told me a bit about it when you called – that he lost the food money and got caught stealing."

"Yeah, peanut butter and bread," Sonny gruffed, looking into the empty fireplace. "Less than five dollars for all that. They got in contact with your dad who told the cops to let him rot in jail for a bit. They had no problem with that, especially since Dean gave a good shiner to one of the deputies." He smiled at the thought, and Sam could not help but smile too. It sounded like Dean. Sonny then turned his stare to Sam, who immediately lost his smile at the other's serious look.

"I knew the moment I looked at Dean that he wasn't a delinquent who was just stealing for kicks or to prove himself to a posse," Sonny said firmly. "He was _hungry_. No kid steals peanut butter and bread unless he has a deep pang right in his gut. And getting to know him over those two months – he was a good kid. Responsible. Trustworthy. Loyal. His grades were fantastic, he made the wrestling team – and won state for the 135lb division. He even found a girl and had his first kiss and was going to go to the school dance with her. It was no problem to get the charges dropped with how outstanding he was. Even though Dean was devastated when we couldn't find your dad and he had to stay here indefinitely, I was relieved. Because I knew he would shine if he could just get out of the man's influence.

"We had long talks that I thought went through one ear and out the other about how sometimes you have to be loyal to yourself. The only time I thought that it broke through was when I told him how I did fifteen years in a correctional facility for doing something I was pressured to by my old gang. My loyalty was unrewarded. I was afraid the same would happen to Dean."

For a long moment, the two remained silent. Sonny thinking hard about what he was about to say, and Sam afraid that Sonny would stop telling him about his brother.

Sonny stood and turned to open the closet door. He pulled down a shoebox and gave it to Sam. It was a little dusty, but even so, Sam could make out his brother's name on the lid. He looked back up at the man who was staring at him hard.

"I've had dozens upon dozens of boys come through here," Sonny said, looking Sam straight in the eye. "And almost every single damn one of them has a piece of my heart, but Dean – he is special to me. I saw so much promise in him, that – When your Dad came to pick him up, it broke my heart. There he was, all ready to go to the dance with a girl he was in puppy love with, and I had to tell him that his jackass of a father said he had to leave tonight, without telling goodbye to anybody. It damn near killed me, because not only was his heart breaking, but I also knew what would happen if John got a hold of Dean again. I was willing to fight John for him, to adopt him. And for a moment, I thought Dean would let me. I thought – but then he looked out at the car and saw you. He said he had to go back. And when y'all pulled away, I thought I would never hear from him again.

"Then a month later I got a postcard from Dean, telling me the sights he was seeing, that he was doing well. No return address, so I couldn't send anything back, but it settled some of my fears. That he was alive, well enough to write. And so it goes. Every few months he would send me a postcard. In June, he sent me a father's day card with a number for me to call in an emergency if anything strange happened. Even though I really didn't believe the mumbo-jumbo about werewolves and the like, I thought it was great, because Dean clearly did, and it meant he cared.

"Anyway, I would receive cards every few months and father's day cards sometimes in advance, sometimes after. He always signed it D-Dawg, which I thought strange, because he never went by that here. About a few years after, I realized why. The police showed up to my door to know if I had been in contact with Dean Winchester. He was suspected in a series of occult murders and grave desecrations. I realized at that moment he did it to protect me. I told him straight out that I would never lie to the cops for any of my boys, that they had to take responsibility for their actions and I can't afford to lose my foster license. Dean gave me complete plausible deniability. I had not been in contact with Dean Winchester – just D-Dawg.

"So, I told the cops no, because I didn't have it in my heart to tell them my suspicion that D-Dawg was Dean. And I kept an ear out for him, and damn it all if he didn't get a list as long as my arm of arrest warrants. Even so, the postcards kept coming, along with the father's day cards every year. When they stopped last year, I thought – well, I felt relieved when I received a card October last year."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sam asked, feeling a little choked up.

"Because, I love that boy as if he was my own, and I know he is shit with words," Sonny said and stood up. "And, I want you to know just how much that boy has done for you. How much he loves you. Go on and look at 'em. I'll keep Dean preoccupied as much as I can."

And with that, Sonny left Sam alone with the dusty box.

Sam carefully opened the box and started to sift through the cards. He wondered why Sonny would want him to read them, until he saw what Dean had written. Some of it was about some of the girls he's met, some about how he is alive and well and enjoying wherever he was at the moment, but the rest –

The rest was about Sam.

About how he was doing in school, about being worried Sam was not getting the best childhood, about how Sam had run away, about how they found him, about working odd jobs to pay for Sam's books, about Sam leaving him for Stanford, about feeling abandoned with his dad, but still how proud he was of Sam who was going to be the best damn lawyer ever.

He never once said he regretted leaving. He never once talked about wanting to come back to the farm.

And the father's day cards – all of them said the same thing:

'Thank you for being there for me. Hope you're doing well. – D.'

Sam put the cards away and just stared at the pile of them, his eyes a little misty. How could he not know about such a big part of Dean's life? A time that had obviously meant so much to him? A father-figure that had meant so much to him. And, the fact that he had given all of that up – for Sam – it made Sam's cheeks burn with shame for how much he had doubted Dean. He had grown in his understanding of his brother more and more in the past few years, but this? This was almost too much.

"Sammy, where'd you run off to?" Dean yelled from outside the door. Sam panicked and stuffed the lid back onto the box and put it under the chair quickly. He was just standing up when Dean came through the door.

"What are you doing in here?" Dean asked, looking around.

"Oh, well, Sonny let me use his, uh, mirror," Sam said, coming up with a lie quickly. "I wasn't sure if I was bleeding or if it was just bruises on my back – and it's just bruises, no worries."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked concerned. "Do you need me to look at it?"

"No, it's fine, Dean," Sam replied and started to leave the room.

"Well, when we get back to the bunker, I'll put that cream on your back," Dean said, following. "But if you got bruises any lower, you can deal with yourself, bitch."

"Jerk," Sam said and smiled at Dean.

A little while later, as they were leaving, Sam waited by the car for Dean to say his goodbyes. When Dean got to the car, Sam could not help commenting on how much the place must have meant to Dean, which his brother of course brushed off.

Sam knew better.

So, when they got in the car, he told him.

_"Dean, thank you."_

_"For what?"_

_"Just for – always being there, for having my back. Look I know it always hasn't been easy."_

_"I don't know the hell you're talking about."_

But Sam saw Dean's smile, and he knew better.


End file.
